Switch
by gnrkrystle
Summary: Hermione is a bleeding heart who wants to change the world. Draco is an opportunist who just wants to make a buck. What happens when they are thrown into each other's lives in the most unimaginable way?
1. Total Opposites

**SWITCH**

**A/N:** Okay, so this is a new idea that attacked me with a vengeance and so, here begins another story. Not sure how long this will end up being, but suffice it to say, it will be longer than a one-shot, obviously. Thanks, again to my wonderful, amazing, near God-like beta **~Rusty Weasley~** He deals with my horrible habit of starting sentences with conjunctions and doesn't murder me. Give him cyber hugs, kisses, and the like. He deserves them!

**Disclaimer:** Of course I do not own Harry Potter or any recognizable characters or places. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Disclaimer 2: ** Also, I am not the first person to try the concept of switching bodies in a Harry Potter fanfiction. In fact, the idea to do this was inspired by** Padfood the Marauder's** story **_'Why Draco Should Not Be Using Tampons'_** and I must give credit where it is due for the plot bunny. That said, my story is entirely different and the only part that is the same is that they switch bodies and the obvious things that go along with two mortal enemies sharing bodies. I also don't own **_Freaky Friday_** but you can see obvious similarities to that movie in this story.

* * *

**Total Opposites**

* * *

"Oh, fucking hell," Hermione growled at her nylons as she saw the newest run climbing up her calf and under her knee-length wool skirt. The absolute last thing she needed was to Apparate home for a new pair since she was already running late. Running two different departments in the Ministry made for little free time, and near constant dashing from one place to another.

Shaking her head, she endeavored to ignore the imperfection in her stockings and hurried to the lifts. She had a meeting with a board of private investors for her latest project, and being late was far worse than having a run in her hose. In fact, they shouldn't really care about what she was wearing at all. Her ideas were the focus of the meeting, and she was sure this project to educate House Elves would speak for itself.

With head held high, she marched into the board room located at level twelve of the Ministry of Magic and prepared to raise the money she needed to start her school. It was a trial after all, who could say no to that?

Apparently a lot of people. She knew two minutes into her introduction that she'd lost the whole room. She was drowning; and what was worse, Draco-sodding-Malfoy was at the head of the table, smirking. Merlin, she hated that man. He'd been a thorn in her side since they were eleven, and he seemed to find amusement in trying to embarrass her in at any turn since.

She didn't understand why people like him could sit on a pile of money, while she had to beg like a homeless person for each Knut to help out her worthwhile causes. If she had her way, Draco Malfoy's income would be taxed to high heaven and redistributed to those who actually needed it. Any civilized society could recognize that the inequity of the people and creatures in the wizarding world, were made worse by the lining of pockets by arseholes like Malfoy.

She flowed through her entire spiel while internally berating Malfoy, not once taking a breath, and not once stopping for questions. How could anyone oppose this school, after all? It was relatively inexpensive, and its benefits would know no bounds!

"Thank you, Ms. Granger," an older gentleman who looked bored out of his mind, said the moment she took the chance to catch her breath. She could see the writing on the wall. It was over. They weren't going for it. Perhaps, as much as she hated to admit it, she could get Harry to use some of his political capital to change minds, but as for today, she was sure it wasn't going to happen.

"I have all the charts and research here," she said, weakly gesturing at the binder in front of her.

"That won't be necessary, Granger," Draco said, a satisfied smirk still playing on his features. "We'll get back to you."

Oh, if she could have said what she wanted. She'd have laid into that arrogant prat with every fucking word in her incredible vocabulary. Instead, she glared and pasted on the world's most insincere smile. "Very well, _Mister_ Malfoy," she replied. Turning to the rest of the room, she smiled and left. Her shoulders drooped as she headed back to her own office between the Department of Magical Creatures and The Department of Education, both of which she ran single handedly.

It was utterly stupid that in the twenty-first century she still had to bow to the altar of the all mighty private sector for basic necessities for children and creatures. _That no-good, greedy bastard could fund a thousand schools and not break a sweat,_ she ranted. _Like he'd have been able to string two sentences together if it hadn't been for his precious private tutors growing up. Elitist fucking prick. _Oh, she hated him so damn much!

Instead of stopping at her office, she took a detour to the Auror department. Ginny and Harry would set her right, or at least let her vent. "Harry!" she called into his office.

"Hermione, how'd the meeting go?" he asked, looking up from his paperwork.

"Awful. I know they won't give me funding. And _Malfoy_ was there," she spat the other man's name.

Harry looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry. You'll get the next one," he said optimistically.

She scoffed. "This was important, Harry! How can House-elves ever hope to be free if they don't even understand that they are being oppressed?" she shouted passionately.

"Yeah, but Hermione, is that the biggest issue facing Wizarding England? It will happen in time, but for now, things are okay, aren't they?" Harry knew how passionate she was, but sometimes she needed to realize she was not a global dictator, and she couldn't expect the world to bend to her will.

"No!" she cried. "I thought you'd understand that one kind of slavery is no different than any other!"

"Merlin, Hermione, I'm on your side. Just take the rest of the day off and calm down," Harry suggested. "I think Ginny was on her way out soon. Perhaps you two can grab a late lunch. Please relax. You can't change what the board decides no matter how much you stress about it."

Hermione snorted in disgust but eventually nodded. "Fine. I'll see you this weekend."

Harry could tell she was far from letting this go, but at least she wasn't raving any longer. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to his paperwork and thanked Merlin, not for the first time, that he didn't work in the Department of Education or Magical Creatures.

* * *

_Irritating fucking swot_, Draco muttered to himself as he watched Granger manically talk about every single historical society that utilized slavery, both Muggle and Wizarding. He could save her a hell of a lot of time, really. All she had to do was say, "This is what I want. This is why." Businessmen believed in the bottom line. He, and his colleagues, could care less about her bloody diatribes. What was the bottom line? How would it benefit them financially, and if it doesn't, why is it worth the charity? Unlike Granger and her bleeding heart friends, he understood that life doesn't run on rainbows and sunshine. Money mattered. Without money, what the hell did you have?

She didn't even stop for a fucking breath. Her clothes were too big for her body, and it appeared she'd bought them from the waste bin at a second-hand store. Merlin's fucking beard, did she not know the first thing about selling an idea? You start by looking as if you give at least one fuck about yourself. Why should someone give her money if she looked like she couldn't even dress herself in the morning?

It was getting too much. He was immensely relieved when Chairman Boggs interrupted her at the first pause she took. _Thank fuck! _He didn't think he could take one more second of her grating, professorial, arrogant speech. Sending her on her way gave him great joy and he relished in her defeated look as she left. Good, at least she wasn't an idiot. She knew things had not gone well. Not everyone agreed that her ideas were imperative to the survival of the Wizarding World. However, she sure seemed to think all of her ideas were pure fucking gold.

"Alright, gents," he said after she left. "What do we think?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Blaise asked from his right. "Merlin! Granger comes into these board meetings once a damn week with a new, expensive idea that she promotes as essential as indoor plumbing." Blaise rolled his eyes and the board members just chuckled.

"I mean, in all honesty, the only thing I want to invest in for that girl is a new wardrobe," Gilda Hopkirk said. "Was she fat in school? Why the hell don't any of her clothes fit?"

"No," Draco said. "She just seems to think she's morally superior to those of us who don't walk around looking homeless."

Chairman Boggs sighed, "We might be able to spare 20% of what she's asking, but in all reality it won't do any good. For one, house-elves wouldn't enroll voluntarily, though, I'm sure Ms. Granger will just try to pass a law to make it mandatory. Then you have the fact that house-elf masters would have to be compensated for the time lost. Not that I plan to cover _that_, mind you. It's a disaster waiting to happen. I vote we reject funding. All in favor?" All hands raised in return.

"Okay. Let's hope the defeat will keep her from a crusade for at least ten days," Draco said with a chuckle.

* * *

"For fuck's sake, doesn't she have anything better to do?" Blaise mused.

"No," Draco said. "No. She doesn't. She's single. Probably hasn't ever been shagged properly. If she has, it clearly wasn't good enough to dislodge the stick from her arse. She feels morally and intellectually superior to the whole world," he continued. "Did you know, that barmy cow tried to make "Muggle integration courses" compulsory for every Hogwarts graduate? You know I've come to enjoy the Muggle World quite well over time, but has the concept of individual liberty totally escaped that bird's nest she calls a head?"

"How do you really feel about it?" Blaise laughed.

Draco smirked. "Bitch just drives me nuts. How many times do we have to turn her down, and explain to her _why_ before she gets the picture? It's a wonder she has any friends left at all? Could you deal with that on a daily basis?"

"No. No, I couldn't," Blaise agreed. "I hope you're right and she lays off it for a while. I'm beginning to think being a board member at the Ministry was a giant waste of my time. If only it were like the old days when we could throw some money at a few things and still get our laws passed."

"I know," Draco said. "With this new anti-capital attitude, it's harder than ever getting the Wizengamot to approve our pro-business legislation."

It was true. After the war, somehow making money got lumped into being a Pureblood and supporting Voldemort. Silly, because just as many Muggle-borns were capitalists as Purebloods, but who ever asked rational questions at election time? Still, as would be the case for all eternity, money talks and he had plenty of that.

* * *

"Hermione, please chill out," Ginny said. "You need a vacation. Scratch that; you need a man, a vacation, and a drink. Please, I'm begging you, take some time off and recharge your batteries. You are going to go nuts being this intense all the time."

"You sound like your brother," Hermione pouted.

"Ron might be an idiot, but he's right about one thing. Your lifestyle is going to see you dead from a heart attack at thirty," Ginny said, eyeing her friend seriously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You just don't get it, Ginny. This stuff is important. I don't understand why people only care about themselves and what's comfortable for them," she huffed.

Ginny started to get annoyed. "Hermione, just because we don't dedicate our lives to causes, doesn't mean we don't care or that we are selfish."

"I didn't mean..." Hermione started but Ginny shook her head.

"Yes, you did. Look, please, just take a break. You need it." Ginny knew Hermione meant well, but sometimes enough was enough. With that, she turned to the Floo and went home.

Hermione needed a drink.

* * *

"Oh Merlin, could this get any better?" Draco smirked to himself as he sipped his firewhisky. Blaise had just gone home to bed whatever witch was warming his sheets these days, and he'd stayed behind to get a good buzz working. It was a dive, but he enjoyed it. No one bothered him and it wasn't crowded. He didn't like crowds.

He was having a pretty decent night until he saw Hermione-fucking-Granger walk into the place, head down as she looked at the shoes that went with the atrocious outfit she'd worn to the board meeting. _Perfect. _

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Granger, slumming it with the mortals," he drawled, loud enough for the other five people in the bar to hear. He saw her tense up and her eyes moved up to his.

"Malfoy," she said as she sneered and moved in, several seats down from him at the bar. "What a shock to see you throwing away daddy's money on booze."

"Oh, yes. What are you here for, my dear, the conversation? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you are a government worker, correct? So, in other words, you are paid entirely in tax dollars. Which means, you are using my _daddy's money_ to drink too, are you not?" he countered.

"Of course you have no respect for the dignity of being a public servant," she sniffed, chugging down the beer that had just been placed in front of her.

"Oh for the love of Merlin, does it get tiring hauling that self-righteousness around all day?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"I don't know, does it get tiring hauling around that ego of yours?" she countered.

"Nope," he responded with an annoying smirk. "In fact, my ego is doing just fine. However, your inability to accept that you are not the smartest person who ever lived, seems to be doing a number on you. When was the last time you actually looked like your were in your twenties instead of your fifties?"

Her eyes blazed. "Fuck off, you little ferret!" she growled.

"Call me that one more time," he responded, moving off his stool and closer towards her. If there was one thing he could not abide, it was that ridiculous fucking name on the lips of Potter and his sycophantic crew.

"Ferret," she annunciated proudly, her eyes flashing in triumph.

Oh, he fucking hated this bitch.

"I was a ferret for 10 seconds fifteen years ago. You've been an insignificant waste since the moment you started S.P.E.W." he countered.

She was off her stool in seconds. "How _dare_ you!" she cried.

"How dare I what? Point out your many flaws? The fact that you've wasted your education on being an irritating busybody with no clue how money is made or how to use it? The fact that you still think the government can 'fix' everything. Your contempt for people who work for a living? Or that you can't get through your thick fucking skull that you don't have the right to move people about like chess pieces for the 'greater good'." He was yelling by the time he got to the end of his tirade and she looked ready to punch him.

"Oh, and I suppose the world of high finance is where true dignity lies? Taking rich people's money to make them richer? Contributing to the consumerism that ruins people's lives? Getting rich on the backs of magical creatures you've brainwashed into believing they don't even want to be free? This is what is means to be valuable, rational, or good? Fuck that! You don't care about anyone but yourself and your Galleons. I'd feel sorry for you, if I could care about you at all!" she shot right back at him. Her breath was coming out in pants and she looked as if she didn't know whether to kick his ass or cry over her beer.

Draco had had it with her self-righteousness. "Get over yourself for a moment," he said. "Clearly you are incapable of understanding anything outside of your narrow scope."

"_I'm narrow-minded?" _she cried. "You are the one who doesn't understand anything outside of your money and blood status! I could make you understand you know!" she shouted, withdrawing her wand.

"Pulling a wand in a public bar, Granger?" Draco drawled, pulling his own. He had no idea she was this unhinged. But he could curse her if he had to. He wasn't above it. However, Merlin knew the Ministry would take the little bitch's side. "Not very 'understanding'."

Her eyes blazed, and as irrational as she knew she was being she just wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. "_Pietas!_" she shouted, sending the strongest compassion curse she could muster.

He was quicker.

_"Protego!"_ Draco cried, magic rushing forward to protect him from whatever Granger hastily cast his way. He felt a whoosh and a crackle from the onslaught of his magic meeting hers and his eyes widened. Never had it felt like that. _What the hell? _

Hermione was scared. For one, she'd never cursed anyone unprovoked, and being irritating was not really provocation. Somehow, Malfoy just brought out the worst in her. Secondly, her magic had totally gone fucking nuts. She'd never cast this particular curse, one where the recipient was supposed to be so overcome by compassion for his fellow man he would beg for mercy. It was borderline Dark, but she'd cast an Unforgivable before, in the war, and it felt nothing like this. It was like her magic was being launched out of her body and slamming back in at the same time. She shook with fear, her eyes wide when the crackling of their magical collision died down.

"Oi! You two. Out of here. We won't have that in this establishment," the barkeep yelled.

"I'm...I..." she started, but couldn't make words come together. So she ran. Draco stumbled out of the bar moments later.

* * *

Hermione woke up with a splitting headache. After screaming at Draco Malfoy in public - _why the hell had she thought that was a good idea by the way - _she proceeded to storm off and buy a bottle of wine and finish the whole thing in one go. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

Her body ached in places she'd never even thought possible as she groaned and got out of bed. A headache tonic was in order. Merlin, she felt old. Her body moved as if she had no control over it as she made her way to the bathroom. Was the ground further away than usual? She looked down at her feet. _What the fuck? _

Those were, most certainly, _not_ her feet. Those were not her hairy legs either. Sure, she forgot to shave from time to time but...

Dashing to the bathroom, she felt gangly and long. Her hips didn't carry her weight the same, she felt pulled by the chest as she walked instead of her core. She was freaking out. She stopped in front of her bathroom mirror and screamed as she saw her reflection. The sound that escaped her mouth, though, was not that of a twenty-eight year old woman. It was deep, rumbling, and it sounded just like the voice of the man that was staring back at her in the mirror. Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco knew something was wrong the second he woke up. For one, he had breasts. He noticed them right away as he slept shirtless every single night of his life. He had moderately large, fucking beautiful tits. That, and there was a massive amount of hair all over his face.

He shook his head. What the hell happened last night? He hadn't been drunk. He had a slight buzz and went home. He finished up his quarterly review and went to bed. He pulled the covers off his body and moved over to the full-length mirror by his bed. His heart sped up as his brain processed what he was looking at. He closed his eyes and opened them over and over, expecting to see a different reflection. He was in full on panic mode. No matter how many times he closed his eyes, when he opened them again, he was looking at a half-naked Granger. A cry erupted from his throat and he felt very near passing out.


	2. Deal

**A/N: Thanks for the wonderful response. Here's the next chapter. It's not very long, but it was necessary to end this way. Later chapters will be longer. Also, I'm not sure how quickly I'll update. I've got two kids running around. But I will try my best to make updates quick. :) Thanks, and enjoy!**

* * *

****

Deal

* * *

_Breathe. Breathe, Hermione. In. Out. In. Out. Oh, bloody fucking shit!_ _Penis. I have a penis. It is big? Oh, Merlin, why am I thinking about how big his...my penis is? I am going to have to touch it eventually. What if it gets hard? What if he has a sexually transmitted disease? Do I have it now too? How does this work? Is it like Polyjuice? Shit! Shit! Shit! What if I can't change back, will I have to be a man forever? Malfoy, of all fucking people. I guess it is a nice body, mind. But fuck, he's an arse. Arse, he's got a boney arse. Oh fuck, Hermione you are losing it. Gotta change back. Breathe, breathe. Gotta find Malfoy and get him to change me back. I can't live like this. Oh Merlin's tit, I'm going insane. _

Hermione stared at her - his - reflection and felt her lungs closing up. She had to breathe. She had to stay calm. She had to figure out what the blue fuck had happened to her.

Malfoy, clad in too-tight pajamas, stared back from the mirror with a bewildered look on his face would have been hilarious if she weren't in the midst of the most severe panic attacks she'd ever experienced. And that was coming from someone prone to them in the first place.

She tried to think back on the events of last night to understand how this could have happened. She knew that bodies _could_ switch, theoretically, but she'd never know of it happening to anyone. Besides, she had no idea if she'd switched with Malfoy or if this was some bizarre curse that was only affecting her. He did have a nice tone to his body, and she pulled up her shirt to get a good look at his abs. She pulled out the waistband of her pajamas…_Oh, Merlin's moldy bollocks!_ If they _had_ switched, that meant that, right now, Draco Malfoy was in her body, doing the same thing. Looking at it. Touching it. Doing Merlin knew what to it. The walls were closing in again. She was light headed. She had to sit down. _Oh fuck! _What was she going to do?

* * *

_Granger. Tits. I'm so short. Breasts. What the fuck is going on? Her tits are so much bigger than I thought. Merlin, her whole body is delightful. She's fucking stacked and that bloody twit covers it up like a moron. I'd bang her. Have to staple her annoying mouth shut, but it'd be worth it. Oh fuck, what the hell am I thinking? This is Hermione Granger. HERMIONE GRANGER! She probably hasn't shown any of these goods to a man in years. Ha! She can have multiple orgasms though. Awful shame to put that ability to waste...Balls, I've lost my fucking mind! I've got to get out of her body before I start fancying blokes and want my dignity respected or some such rot._

Draco shook his head, pulling the silk robe by his bed around his now-naked feminine form. As good as Granger's body looked, it was his body for now, and it was freaking him the fuck out.

He had to figure out what happened and how to change back. Why her? Why now? He just _knew_ this had to be related to the wonky magical surge between them last night, which meant only one thing. Very likely, Hermione Granger was staring at his body in her own mirror. _Oh, bloody fucking hell. _

His head was pounding - probably from the ten pounds of extra hair he was currently carrying around. For Merlin's sake, how did she walk upright with this monstrosity on her head?

Regardless of whether or not they'd switch, or this was some sort of hellish curse on him alone, he had to contact her. For one, if she was in his body, he wanted it back. If not, he certainly couldn't tell anyone else what had happened to him. As much as he hated to admit it, the bloody know-it-all could probably help him. With a deep sigh, he walked over to his desk and wrote Hermione a short note. After sending it on its way, he made his way to the Floo and waited. Bloody witch better be quick. He had things to do today.

* * *

The second she arrived through the green flames and saw herself sitting in Malfoy Manor with a scowl, she felt her stomach plummet. All thoughts that she might get out of this without having Draco Malfoy know every detail and flaw of her body were out the window. "Malfoy," she said with as much dignity as she could muster given her panic and the fact that she was now speaking with a man's voice. This was beyond weird.

"Granger," he replied tersely.

"What the hell did you do?" she demanded, tapping her foot with her hands on her hips. She must have looked ridiculous, but she didn't care. She had to fix this, and fix it now. She had a life to get back to. There were plenty of things that needed to be done at work, and she shuddered to think what would happen if Malfoy had possession of her body for one more minute.

"What did _I_ do?" he asked, eyes wide. She wondered if she always looked that ridiculous when she was outraged. "I'm sorry, but I was not the one who pulled a wand on _you_ in the bar and cursed you. That was all you," he pointed out, fuming. "Precious fucking savior of the Wizarding World, and somehow you think you can do whatever you bloody well please," he muttered the last part, but she heard him. "Elitist pricks."

"Oh, do shut up!" she snapped. "It wouldn't have hurt, had it actually worked. Just knocked you down a few pegs. Not like you don't need it," she added snottily.

Draco had never wanted to punch a woman square in the face as much as he did then. Though, since it was _his_ face, perhaps it was okay. He shook his head. He didn't want to go down that road. As tempting as it was to pummel the self-righteousness out of her, he had to focus. "After you've finished rationalizing your double standards, how about you join us back her on earth and try to help me figure who what the hell _you_ did to us?"

He took a small bit of happiness at the obvious way she shifted, showing that she knew very well that this was her own fault. Good. When he sued her for the loss of money that would undoubtedly occur while they worked this out, she'd understand just exactly why. And he was going to sue her for every damn Knut. It would be about time for the annoying bitch to understand that she can't do whatever the hell she pleased just because everyone bowed to her alter in the wake of the war.

Looking at her standing there in his body was the most surreal moment of his life. Already he could see her bad posture taking over. His shoulders slumped, he looked a mess. Not that he could claim he'd beautified Granger's body. He was a bit disturbed, after all. Still, he wouldn't stand for the bad back that would go along with having Granger in his skin for too long.

"Stand up straight," he snapped. "You look ridiculous hunched over like you do nothing but sit over books all day."

"I'll stand however I please, thank you," she spat.

"No," he said, raising himself to his full height, which was, now, much shorter than he was used to. Still, he was determined to work it. "Look at me. Your body has grown at least two inches just by being stretched to its normal posture. Now, while I work to rectify the years of torture you've done to your spinal cord, why don't you do your best not to ruin mine?"

He smirked when he saw her steaming. Oh well, best find his kicks where he could because it looked like Hermione-sodding-Granger was going to be in his life until he could figure out how to reverse what their magic had done.

"Stop standing like that!" she snapped. "You are pushing my tits out. It looks ridiculous!"

"Ummm, no," Draco replied. "Your tits don't look ridiculous. They look like tits. I don't know what sexually repressed kind of life your Muggle parents instilled in you, but there is nothing wrong with having breasts, and it looks more ridiculous when you try to cover them up. Haven't you ever considered how much more money your little projects would get if you showed them off a bit?"

"I am not discussing this with you," she said imperiously. "You are disgusting. I'm not going to sell myself for funding."

"Why not? Don't the House-elves deserve it?" he said in mock earnestness. He laughed when she picked a vase off his coffee table and threw it into the Floo.

She hated that man so much! Did he think of nothing but money and sex? "Listen, Malfoy," she finally said, endeavoring to forget how weird her voice sounded as his. "I just want you out of my life. Wait, how are you so calm?" It hit her like a ton of bricks. Draco looked almost natural. He certainly didn't look as freaked out as she did.

"Calm? I woke up as you. I'm very sure I'm going to lose my fucking mind at any moment. Unlike you, I have a bit of self-control. I don't externally rage like a bloody harpie, and I know that to get out of this fucking body, I need to keep a level head. We all know you are incapable," he said, looking at her in the eyes.

She wanted to hit him. She really did. "I'm not level headed? Excuse me, but I owned you in every subject at Hogwarts. I've graduated at the top of my class in both a Muggle University and a Wizarding Potions Mastery!" _How dare he question her level of skill and ability?_

"Yes, Granger, but we aren't in school. No one cares that you've made top marks. Instead of doing something with all that knowledge, you sit in a cramped office and write up reports and legislation to annoy the rest of us. Fat lot of good that Mastery or your Bachelor's Degree is doing while you waste your time as a cog in the bureaucracy," he scoffed.

"How do you know what a..." she started, but he rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a moron, Hermione. I might not have been forced to take Muggle Studies, but I can read and I can think. If you bothered to pay attention, you'd know Malfoy Enterprises invests in various Muggle companies. For fuck's sake, Granger, listen to me. I'm doing you a favor here. Please, every time you think about talking, shut your mouth and ask yourself, 'Am I about to treat this person like they can barely tie their shoes without my help'?"

"Oh, you're really funny, Malfoy. You know _so_ much. Yet, you turn a blind eye to the people who starve so you can get richer. Without the enslavement of House-elves, you'd have nothing. You owe them everything!" She was sick to death of this superior attitude of wealthy wizards like they were owed special treatment simply because they were born wealthy and had magic. She was going to make them change, if it was the last thing she did.

"Look, I could sit here and enumerate the ways you do not understand basic economics, or Magical history, but how about instead, we try to figure out why the fuck I have boobs and you have a dick, yes?"

She couldn't say much to that. He had a point.

* * *

"What are we going to do?" Hermione screeched.

"Take it down a few decibels, Granger. My vocal cords were not meant for screaming like a banshee," he drawled, but he was beginning to panic as well. Hours and hours of brainstorming and research and the best they could come up with was that it must have started from the weird magical surge when Granger was trying to get him to feel 'compassionate'. He rolled his eyes at the thought. As if compassion helped anyone. More of that 'let's all feel our feelings' crap.

"Are you not at all concerned that people will begin to wonder where we are? We can't just fall off the face of the earth," Hermione reasoned. That was actually a very good point, not that Draco would ever tell the swotty little bitch to her face.

"We are just going to have to fake it until we can switch back," Draco said, begrudgingly. He didn't like the idea, but what the hell else could they do?

"_What?_ You cannot possibly expect us to be able to successfully parade as each other!" she cried.

"Granger, do you ever chill the fuck out?" Draco asked. "This is not ideal, but what exactly do you want to do? Hide in the Manor forever? Not possible."

"But I have work to do! I have projects underway!" Hermione cried. She had about ten irons in the fire as it was and as the only person in either of her departments that gave a damn, she couldn't possibly miss a moment of work. Leave it to Draco Malfoy to kill her career. He'd enjoy it too, she was sure.

Draco rolled his eyes. "One, I'll bet every one of those projects is either redundant or completely out of the scope of what the government should be doing. Two, learn to delegate. As shocking as it might seem, you are not the only person in the world capable of complex thought. Three, I run a multibillion Galleon business. I can handle government busywork."

His haughty tone infuriated her. He had no idea how hard she worked. Just because she didn't throw around money didn't mean she sat on her arse all day.

He'd never understand. He didn't care about anyone but himself, and he didn't have the slightest clue how much good the government had done in the years following the war. The War Orphans program likely saved thousands of kids from following down a Dark path.

"I'm not even going to dignify those points with a response. Suffice it to say, government work is one-hundred times harder than counting my money over rounds of Quidditch with the investors. I could do _that_ with my eyes closed. You, on the other hand, could not begin to understand how difficult, time consuming, and ultimately rewarding my career is," Hermione replied.

Draco took a deep breath and counted to five. "You know what? Let's make a deal. Until we figure out how to fix this monstrosity, I'll do your job. You do my job, and when you come back to me, ready to eat crow, I promise I will not even gloat. I will, however, demand you stop wasting the board's time with any idea that you cannot find some way to make profitable."

Dear Merlin, his life would improve ten-fold if he didn't need to sit through any more of her pointless charitable project pitches. He saw her contemplating his idea, but he knew one thing about Ms. Tight Ass Granger. She absolutely could _not_ stand to lose.

"Deal. And when you come to me, begging for forgiveness for your obvious stupidity in assuming my job is pointless and futile; you have to contribute at least 25% for every one of my projects for a year." She cocked her eyebrow -which was really his eyebrow- at him and smirked. She thought she had him. And to be fair, that was quite a hefty price tag. He certainly thought she would be getting more out of the deal than he, but he was confident. Government work _was_ futile, and it was a walk in the park if you made it so. There was no competition.

"Deal," he said, sticking his hand out. "Real men, shake on it."

"Sexist as ever, Malfoy," she said with disdain as she took his hand.

"Well, lucky for you, you get to take a walk in the shoes of the 'evil Patriarchy'. Should make your life infinitely easier overnight," he smirked as she scowled.

"Now, best we take the rest of the day to study each other's mannerisms and jobs," Hermione said, getting down to business. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it _perfectly_.


	3. Day One in the Real World

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the great reviews. Thanks, also, to my fantasmic beta Rusty Weasley!**

Day One in the Real World

* * *

Draco looked at the state of Granger's desk and wanted to scream. _This barmy bird has no concept of organization_, he sighed to himself. Well, at least he looked good. After getting Hermione to leave him the fuck alone for an hour, he took an efficient shower, not having as much time as he wanted with her naked body - yet. Next, he sent Flippy out to acquire him some clothes for the week. He certainly was _not_ going to wear those sacks Granger called clothes. If this lasted a long time, he'd get tailor-made clothes. He shuddered to think about being stuck in this horrible woman's body. And her job? Merlin kill him if he had to do _that_ for longer than a week.

As it was, he stood to Granger's full height - plus three inches in heels - in a knee-length pencil skirt, and a royal blue silk blouse with a modest V-cut. Of course, that repressed, insufferable woman nearly had a heart attack when she'd seen him. However, this was a battle he was going to win. He dressed her well, and she looked good. He was going to teach her, if nothing else, that having a set of tits and a nice ass was not going to kill her feminist principles. For Merlin's sake, if being a woman was so _glorious,_ as the likes of her and her man-hating harpies insisted, then why cover up all the things that actually make one a woman?

He sighed and shook his head. He was already disturbed by how adjusted to her body he was getting. He didn't need to delve into Granger's crazy brain any deeper. He was confident he could prove his point to her about whose job was harder and more important in only one day. Then maybe she'd shut her useless mouth and just do what he said when it came to playing their roles until this nightmare was finally over.

He could already tell this was going to suck. The Ministry was a beautiful building with great Wizarding architecture, marble floors, and a beautiful atrium. Where Granger worked, however, was like the dank, dark basement of Hell. The one window in the pit that she called an office might as well have no even been there. _Fuck!_ How the hell did she breathe in this place? Still, determined to prove that self-righteous bitch wrong, he stalked into the room and took his place at her desk.

* * *

Hermione didn't understand why Malfoy dressed her up like a tart, and she wasn't allowed to dress him down to clothes that were not absolutely absurd. Even his fucking underwear was tailored, for the love of Merlin. His trousers could have fed an entire African country. His fucking tie probably could pay for enough Dragon Pox immunizations for all the children in Wizarding England! She shuddered when she tried to guess how much the blazer she was wearing cost.

She didn't know why everyone obsessed over clothes. She made a promise to herself, long ago - after how barmy everyone went over a nice dress and a few beauty spells at the Yule Ball her Fourth Year - that she wouldn't let herself become a slave to shallow impressions. She was _not_ going to get ahead with miniskirts and plunging necklines. In fact, what she was wearing should be entirely immaterial. It had nothing to do with her intellectual abilities.

Of course, Draco Malfoy would not agree. _Shallow git!_ She could see from the ten people she'd passed on the way to his office at the tippy top of the building, Malfoy wasn't the only one who took appearances very seriously. Those women should have been ashamed of themselves dressing like they'd be dancing at a club rather than conducting professional business. Then again, Malfoy probably didn't think women were good at much other than lying on their backs. _Sexist pig._

Finally, she reached his office and gave a sigh of relief. Hopefully she wouldn't have to talk to anyone, and she could get through this as efficiently as possible. She'd start at the top; working through everything he'd told her was of the most importance. If she happened to find extra funds that were prime for investment in Ministry projects - well, the more the better, she smirked to herself.

She wasn't more than five minutes into the papers when Malfoy's secretary came in. Young. Female, of course. She rolled her eyes. "Yes?" she asked impatiently. The black haired girl frowned.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.

"I'm very busy. Is there a reason you are interrupting?" Hermione did her best to impersonate Malfoy's imperious tone. The girl frowned in confusion. Perhaps it would have been smarter to talk about his interpersonal relationships at work than the minute details of business.

"Just the morning messages," the secretary replied, giving Hermione a clipboard of notes. Hermione nodded and the girl saw her own way out. Messages. There were at least forty notes here from people who'd called before 9:00am! Hermione banged her head on Malfoy's desk. _Fuck! _

* * *

"What do you mean, you allocated money to the Muggle-born Adaptation Fund?!" Draco screeched in Hermione's high-pitched voice, as he plopped down heavily on the closest chair in the library where they'd come together to research their 'switched bodies' problem. The second he got his body back, he was going to kill this useless twat and bury her in the back yard. It was official.

"Well, it's not like you can't spare it," she said haughtily as she sat across from him at the table in the center of the room.

He thought it was high time to explain to her that how much he had was in no way relevant to this conversation. "What do you imagine rich people do with their money?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Drink, play Quidditch, buy sex from women. Spending money on luxuries that ninety-eight percent of the population cannot possibly dream of having," she responded immediately.

"For someone so educated, you are a fucking moron," Draco said.

That set her off. She made to tackle him, but he moved out of the way.

"Attacking a girl, now, are you?"

"Oh! I _hate_ you!" she cried. "Of course you have luxuries others cannot have. You have so much and others can barely _eat!_ How do you live with yourself?"

He sighed heavily. "I'll answer my original question for you, since you have no clue. Wealthy men, especially business owners, invest. They invest in banks. They invest in other businesses. They buy goods and services that create jobs and stimulate the economy. No, we don't take our 'piles of Galleons' and shove them under our mattress, counting them at every chance. _We _create capital. _We_ make jobs. _We_ are the only reason there is any wealth to 'spread around' at all."

"Typical wealthy egotist," Hermione replied. He thought he was so damn smart. Of course, he neglected a great deal of the reality in his ivory tower. "Even with all you have, you can spare so much more. What do you need with all this stuff?" she gestured around the room. "What good does a solid gold clock do you? You see, you believe you are so important. That without you, we would all surely fail. Well, millions of people _are_ failing, if you ever bothered to notice anyone that doesn't fit into your tax bracket!"

He sneered at her, and she knew he didn't like _that_ accusation much. Well, too bad. It was true. "Think of how many people you could feed with this excess."

"It's my money. I earned it. I can't do what I want with it. Perhaps if people want to be better off, they should take advantage of the many resources at their disposal. You seem to think government programs fix problems. How long have we had government programs and yet, poverty and ignorance still exist? You can lead a hippogriff to water, but you can't make him drink, Granger." He sighed. Really, he could easily undo what she'd done, but he couldn't believe the gall she had, stealing from him.

"From now on, spend only what you are told. You might think you are above the law, even as you hastily write a million more for the rest of us to follow, but what you did is actually theft. At least now I feel much less guilty about having halted all of your current projects and delegated your backlog to the ten people you employ. They seemed quite excited to be trusted with bigger tasks than getting your lunch and watching their nails grow." He smirked at her, and she wanted to badly to hit him.

"You are going to ruin my work!" she cried. "This is important!"

"Yes, and you hired ten people to help you between the two departments. Time to start trusting people a bit, Granger. I know that's hard for you bleeding heart leftist academics - think we can't figure out how to go to the bathroom without you holding our hands and all. They will manage."

Oh, if she didn't have to pee so badly, she'd have come up with a comeback. What he didn't understand is they _couldn't_ do it. Not like she could. She wasn't being condescending. She just was the best. She cared the most. She needed to be the one to handle everything. They'd miss something. They'd leave out something. They'd ruin all that she'd done for the last 10 years.

She had to change bodies as soon as possible before he ruined everything she'd worked for. This was unacceptable. "I don't understand why I'm doing everything at Malfoy Enterprises, and you are getting others to do your work," she huffed.

"First, you better not be doing everything on your own there," Malfoy said, with wide, fearful eyes. "With your understanding of economics, I'll be broke by the end of the week."

She huffed in annoyance. She wasn't an idiot. She had a liberal arts education as well as any other educated person. He treated her like a simpleton simply because she didn't believe the almighty Galleon was the most important thing in the world, or that earning more than you needed was a worthy endeavor. The man was money obsessed.

In fact, she could probably help him run a more equitable business if she had more time. Bring in some labour unions, increase employee benefits. As it was, she had a feeling Malfoy employees made less than the average. It was something she'd give more thought to when her bladder was not ready to burst. She'd held off using the bathroom for an entire day and she was pretty sure she was going to die.

"Why are you dancing like that?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like I've got ants in my pants. Stop doing it. You make me look like a ponce!" Draco snapped.

"I have to pee, okay?" Hermione finally shouted. "I've been avoiding drinking anything, but I can't help it. I've had to pee for hours."

"So...pee," Draco said, eying her like she'd lost her mind. They'd been in each other's bodies for well over 24 hours. How could she not have used the bathroom by now?

"But, I'll have to touch..." she snapped her lips closed in embarrassment.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. The prissy little twit thought she could stop peeing forever so she wouldn't have to touch his dick. He rolled his eyes and took her by the arm. It was funny from the outside. Tiny little Hermione Granger manhandling Draco Malfoy to the bedroom.

"Go in there and pee. For the love of Merlin! I assume you didn't shower this morning either for fear of seeing a penis," he sighed.

She looked thoroughly embarrassed.

"Granger, go, before my bladder explodes! As impressive as the organ is, it will not actually bite you. Now, get in there," he said, exasperated. Was she twenty-eight or five? Though, now he felt a little guilty about the thorough examination of her body that he'd already done. One could say, it wasn't just her tits that were magnificent. He actually couldn't believe such a horribly repressed swot was blessed with so many amazing features.

He shook his head and moved over to the bed, plopping down upon it. All in all, today could have gone a lot worse. Still, he was exhausted. How the hell did women walk around in those ridiculous heels all day? They were torture devices. They did make Granger's ass look incredible though.

The real pain was Granger herself. If only he didn't have to be near her. However, as much as he hated having her in his hair, there was nothing to be done about the sleeping arrangements. He couldn't very well stay at her flat, and it was better they stay together until they could figure out what the fuck had happened to them.

He was pulled from his stream of consciousness by a tapping at his window. Sighing, he pulled it open and let the owl outside into his room. Once he took the letter from the bird's mouth it didn't leave, so he assumed it was waiting for a reply. _Who the hell..._Flipping it over he saw that it was addressed to Hermione. Well, he was half Hermione, wasn't he? Besides, the bloody bird was insistent. He opened it up and pulled the letter out.

**_Hermione,_**

**_Where are you? You missed lunch and your Floo is closed off. What's going on? I'm worried. I heard you were at work today, but you never came by. Tell me you are fine before I send out a search party. _**

**_Harry. _**

_Savior Potter_. Draco rolled his eyes. He jotted a note on the parchment saying Hermione was fine and that she'd see him the next day for their scheduled lunch. _Bloody brilliant._ Whatever. It wasn't like he could avoid them forever. Granger would just have to get him caught up on all the particulars of her close relationships. He wouldn't want to slip up in front of Potter.

* * *

_You can do this, Hermione. It's just a penis. You've seen one before. It's not a big deal. Just...ahhhhhhhhhhh. _

The relief of emptying her bladder outweighed the fact that she was holding Draco Malfoy's penis in her hand, until the relief was gone. She looked down and saw the pink organ in her hand and let out a shaky breath. She'd been avoiding this moment from the start. She knew it was there, but she was compartmentalizing. Now, it was all she could think about.

She did need to shower. She didn't smell or anything. She'd used plenty of Malfoy's deodorant and cologne. But she wasn't used to not showering every day, and she knew she could put it off no longer.

_You can do it. This is not a big deal. _She gave herself another pep talk and turned on the shower before beginning to strip. She was a fucking adult, and she'd be stuck in this body for the foreseeable future. Best she get used to it.

Once naked, she stepped under the spray and began a very quick and efficient shower. Curiosity did get the best of her, however. After all, for purely academic purposes, when would she ever have the opportunity to examine the opposite sex so thoroughly? Rationalizing her decision properly, she looked down, taking in Draco's form fully for the first time. His penis was a penis. Nice enough, but it wasn't as if she could discern size while it was soft. He obviously groomed himself well - not that she would have expected any less. _Oh, Fuck! _He'd undoubtedly showered _her_ body already and she was _not_ so thorough in her grooming.

Well, why the hell should she have been? It wasn't like she was getting laid. She shook her head. She could not worry about what Draco was seeing when he showered. It would drive her insane. All she could do was focus on changing back as soon as possible. Perhaps she could Obliviate him and herself after the fact. That sounded like a grand idea.

* * *

"What, exactly have you done to my hair?" Draco drawled as she finally emerged from the bathroom.

"Washed it?" she answered, looking at him like he was nuts.

"With that toxic mess you call shampoo?" he demanded.

"It's basic shampoo!" she defended.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "And it's done a number on your own hair over the years. Don't you dare do it to mine." He stood up and went into the bathroom, pulling out various products from the drawers. "Here, use these. So long as we're stuck like this and living together here at the Manor, we will be rectifying your horrible grooming habits, and fixing the mess of hair you have bestowed upon me for the foreseeable future."

"I have better things to do with my time than primp," she answered.

"If you simply took care of yourself on a regular basis, it wouldn't take very long at all," Draco pointed out.

"Oh, shut up," she huffed, stomping back into the bathroom to fix his precious hair.

* * *

"Well, if I have to learn one more thing about the soap opera known as the 'Lives of the Golden Trio', I'm going to kill myself. So, if you please, I'm off to bed," Draco said, rubbing his eyes.

"Fine. But don't forget. I'm never late. And if they ask something that you don't know the answer to, just talk about work, that's what I usually..."

"I know, Granger. You are work obsessed. Everyone got that memo," he said with a grin. She huffed, but he ignored her. He was frustrated and tired. Normally, he'd just find someone to fuck to blow off some steam and have the best night's sleep in the world, but that wasn't really an option at the moment.

Well, he couldn't have sex but..._No_. It was probably unethical to bugger himself in Granger's body. But what a delicious body it was. And she _could_ have multiple orgasms. She'd never know really. He smiled to himself. _Fuck it. _He needed release and the idea of finger fucking himself was getting him horny. Decision made.

He stripped off all of his clothes and got comfortable on the bed. He refused to feel shame about enjoying one of the only perks of being Granger for the next few days or weeks. Bringing his hands up to cup his breasts, he sighed as tingling arousal gathered in his lower abdomen.

"Mmm," he hummed, basking in how different arousal felt through the body of a woman. It was deep, tingling, and wholly different than he was used to. He could feel himself getting wet. That was a surprise. His nipples were hard and sensitive and even just brushing them made his breath catch. Was Granger's body particularly sensitive, or did all women feel this way? If they did, he had no idea why they weren't all nymphomaniacs.

Not being a patient man, he quickly moved his right hand down to his newly trimmed pussy. He couldn't believe how wet he was. "Yes..." he hissed as the pads of his fingers rubbed against his clit. Luckily, he wasn't a fumbling idiot. He knew exactly what to do; it was just a matter of learning Granger's body and finding her spots. He had it down in minutes.

_Fuck, this is amazing!_ He spread his legs wide and rubbed his clit insistently. He was driving quickly toward the edge. He felt light headed and the tingling rose to a fever pitch until..._Shit! _He let out a high-pitched moan that was sexy to his own ears and rubbed himself through his orgasm - long, intense, fan-fucking-tastic - as it ebbed and flowed. It was amazing. It was so much better even than his best orgasm that he hated women for a small moment.

He slowed down, catching his breath before speeding up again. He was going to come again. _Merlin!_ Honestly, how did woman get anything done with this wonderful experience literally at their fingertips? He moaned deeply as he came again. He didn't end there. He kept going until his fingers cramped and he felt sore. Six. He came six times in the span of twenty minutes. It was fucking awesome.

Sighing with relief, he got up from the bed and padded into the bathroom for a shower. When he crawled into bed, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Hermione's wide eyes stared up at the ceiling. She was shocked and repulsed as she listened to her own voice moan over and over and over again. Draco Malfoy was defiling her body! She wanted to kill him. She wanted to rip him apart limb from limb. How could he do such a thing. It was a complete violation.

She felt a stirring in her groin. It was a tight, almost uncomfortable feeling. Looking down, she saw Draco's hard cock pushing against the material of the cotton pajama pants she wore. She groaned to herself. How in the name of fuck had she gotten aroused? She was disgusted!

One thing was sure, however. The rumors of Malfoy's size were _not_ exaggerated. One more thing to inflate his ego. _Just perfect. _


	4. A Blaise in the Ointment

**A/N: Okay, y'all. I have no excuses except for extreme writer's block and the duties that go along with a son going through his terrible twos! This story might not be cranked out as fast as my previous ones, but I assure you I'm always working on it and I WILL finish it. You will not be left without. Thank you for the infinite patience and I do hope you enjoy!**

**A Blaise in the Ointment**

* * *

Hermione realized one thing very quickly. Ignoring an erection was a hell of a lot harder than ignoring arousal as a woman. It took forty solid minutes of concentration before she was able to get it to go away, and then she spent another hour, horrified and angry with Malfoy.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, she fell into a restless sleep, sure that when she woke up she'd murder Draco Malfoy with her bare hands.

Unfortunately, she missed her opportunity because he was already gone by the time she woke up. _Slick ferret._ She berated him in her head as she got ready for the day, munching a piece of toast in her hurry to get off to Malfoy's office. One thing she'd miss when they switched back was the later arrival to work. Generally she showed up to the Ministry at six-thirty in morning. Malfoy, on the other hand, didn't show up to his own job until nine. _Lazy git_.

* * *

"M-Ms. Granger," a mousy girl about twenty-two called gently from Draco's door.

"Yes," he said, eyeing her.

"I-I-I have th-the weekly r-report," she stuttered. She was physically shaking and Draco couldn't help but smirk a little. Granger must have done a number on these poor people in her Departments.

He put his hand out and smiled warmly. It was time for Hermione Granger to loosen up. "Come in here," he invited, though it didn't sound like the girl had a choice.

"I-is something wrong?" the brunette asked, working to gather her courage.

"Not at all," he purred in Granger's feminine tone. "Thank you very much for the reports. How is the research coming along in the Department of Magical Creatures?"

Her eyes widened comically and Draco had to hold back the urge to laugh. "G-good," she said. "I believe it will be ready by the end of the day."

"Wonderful," Draco beamed. "Thank you."

"You're w-welcome," mousy said before turning to leave. This job was infinitely easier than Granger made it. The people she hired were not incompetent, thank Merlin, and it was time she trusted them.

He was just about to congratulate himself on winning the bet before it even started when Potter burst through his door. "Hermione!" he said, nearly panicked.

"P-Harry!" he cried, trying to call upon his best acting skills.

"You need to come," Harry said. "They've caught Tyrone. I've tried to talk reason to Aimes, but he won't listen. He wants to have him detained."

Draco stared back at his black-haired nemesis trying to work out what the actual fuck he was talking about. _Who the fuck was Tyrone? Who the fuck was Aimes? Why would Granger care about some criminal being detained? Unless of course it was a House-elf or a fucking Centaur. No. That wasn't likely. The Aurors didn't deal with magical creatures except..._

_Werewolves. _A shiver ran down his spine. Could he do this? Face his fears? He didn't have much choice. Harry was staring at him expectantly, and he couldn't very well refuse. This was Hermione Granger. She'd have the Ministry torn down before letting a werewolf be tried for a crime. "Detained for what?" he asked, hoping it wasn't a dumb question. He needed information if he was going to make this work.

"For nothing," Harry spat. "He's only sixteen! He did nothing but run away from that abusive bastard. Now they don't know if he's safe. They want to run tests," Harry said.

"Okay, take me to him," Draco finally said, having no idea what the hell he was going to do.

* * *

"Malfoy," a stern voice called from Hermione's doorway, and she looked up from her cluttered desk. The dark-skinned man eyed her critically as if she were behaving like a loon, and she straightened up.

He looked familiar but she could not for the life of her remember where she'd seen him.

"Ummm…" she replied dumbly.

"It's past noon. Where have you been?" the man asked her.

"I…ummm…" there was that word again. She furrowed her brow.

"Merlin, Draco, you've been strangely out of touch for days and now you forget our weekly lunch. What the hell are you doing hunched over your desk like that. Are you looking to ruin generations of breeding with your abysmal posture?"

Hermione blinked. What the hell was with everyone and posture? In addition, what was this tall, dark, and insanely handsome man going on about? Malfoy had said nothing of a lunch date today. "I've been busy," she finally answered, confused, but trying desperately to seem natural.

"Yes. And since when do you organize your own calendar?" he asked, pointing at the organizer she had been manically pouring over when he walked in.

She began to get indignant. What the hell was wrong with doing your own work and taking care of your own affairs? How could anyone possibly do your work better than _you_? Just because Malfoy pawned everything off on people he paid didn't mean she was going to. She'd just bet she could run his business better than him even without his hired help.

"I'm just fixing some things," she said huffily.

"Jesus, you sound like that swot, Granger," the darker man rolled his eyes and Hermione nearly gasped. Apparently _he _knew who _she_ was.

"Come on. It's your turn to pay, and I'm not taking no for an answer, you mooch." Hermione found herself pushed out of her seat and to the door with no chance to argue.

* * *

"What have you got him on?" Draco asked in his no-nonsense tone. That was one thing he and Hermione had both perfected. So far, he hated Aimes, not because he cared about this kid, Tyson, but because he was an arrogant ass who didn't have much to be arrogant about. He talked to Granger like she was barely literate. It was a wonder how the little witch hadn't hexed his dick off if she dealt with him on a semi-regular basis.

"Loitering," Aimes said. "Not that it's any business of yours."

"He hasn't got a lawyer. And it says here, he's legally emancipated," he glanced down at the kid's file. He had no idea who this Tyson character was, but he had a long file and apparently Granger cared what happened to him. It was enough for him, at the moment. "So, technically, as Head of the Department of the Care of Magical Creatures, this _is_ my business."

Potter beamed at him and he wanted to sneer but kept the urge inside. The Boy Who Lived to Annoy had such hero worship for Granger, he could tell. If the world only knew.

So far, the only thing he knew was that Tyson was important to the Golden Trio, he looked like he'd been living with a literal pack of wolves, and he was being arrested for no good reason than the fact that he changed into a wolf once a month. As much as Draco hated werewolves, he couldn't help but relate to being judged unfairly so, he'd do his best to get the boy out of trouble then demand Hermione explain to him why.

"As to the loitering claim, isn't that really an issue for the Department of Law Enforcement and not the Aurors? Why is he being questioned by you? Why would he be arrested for such a minor offence?" Draco continued.

Aimes huffed impatiently. "We have reason to believe he's tied up in Dark magic. He is a run away and we want to question him in regard to several unsolved cases. You wouldn't want to be responsible for letting loose a murderer, would you, missy?" He looked proud and smug, and Draco hated both qualities in a person unless they were deserved. He also hated the word 'missy'. He had every confidence Granger hated it too.

"Unless you have evidence, you cannot hold him. Moreover, you cannot pin any old cases on the boy simply because you are too lazy to do your own job. Now, shall I get the Minister on the Floo, or are you going to ticket him and let him go?" Draco was getting kick out if this, actually. He wished more of Hermione's day were spent telling these inbred Aurors what to do.

"Listen, missy. You might think you matter, down there in your little office pushing papers, but some of us actually work for a living. Some of us are in the line of fire every single day while you busy yourself with useless causes. Do not tell me how to do my job!" Aimes huffed.

"Aimes!" Potter cried in anger, but Draco put his hand up to stop him. This was going to be fun. As much as he agreed that Hermione wasted her time, he felt a bit protective of her at the moment. A thing he was not going to dwell on. For now, he'd simply tell this pompous prick where to go. One thing Lucius taught him, knowledge was power.

"Aimes, is it?" he said, knowing full well what the asshole's name was. "While you were hiding here in the Ministry, pretending not to notice your colleagues being marched off to Merlin knows where, simply for being Muggle-born, I was fighting Voldemort. It was I, along with Harry and Ron who brought the bastard down while you didn't even show up to the battle. And it will be me, who gets you fired from this job you seem to love so much if you ever talk to me like that again. I have friends in high places, sir. I can think of at least one person that knows enough about your personal life to get you tossed out on your arse. Are we clear?"

Draco knew all that information his father fed him about the Auror department would come in handy one day. Aimes' activities in seedy Muggle adult movie theatres would be enough to discredit him at least. He saw Potter staring at him, wide eyed, and he realized he'd probably broken character a bit too much. Oops.

He turned on his heel and left the room in a dramatic exit, but Potter was right behind him. "Bloody hell, Hermione. That was scary."

"He was an arse," Draco said simply.

"True, but you know you won't do anything to him. If you threaten him and don't follow through, it will make him worse." Potter reasoned.

"I have every intention of following through," Draco promised. "So, do you mind telling me what that was all about?"

Potter looked at him strange again. "Are you alright, Hermione? You are the one who wanted me to come should _anything _arise with Tyrone."

Draco winced. Keeping this up for Potter was a hell of a lot harder than he thought it would be. "I'm fine," he said with a fake smile. "Actually, I'm not feeling that well. Maybe I should go home."

"Sure," Potter said quickly though he was obviously growing more confused. "Ummm, Floo me in a few hours. I want to make sure you are okay."

Draco nodded quickly and left the black haired man behind. He had a headache and he, apparently, had a lot to catch up on with Granger.

* * *

"What the fuck have you done with Draco!" Blaise shouted, grabbing Hermione by the arm, his eyes blazing. She didn't last twenty minutes before Blaise - she finally figured out what his name was at least - got very suspicious and demanded to know which girl they had both screwed at the same time.

Well, of course, _that_ had not been covered in the dossier Draco gave her. "Blaise, listen, I can explain…" she started, but his grip tightened and his eyes flashed.

"I will kill you right now if you do not tell me who the fuck you are, and what the fuck you've done with Draco," he said through clinched teeth. There was going to be no way to explain this without some help.

Without thinking she squeezed her eyes shut and Disapparated.

She was dizzy, but she _was_ in Malfoy's parlor, so it worked, and for that she was grateful.

"How did you get in here? No one can get in without expressed permission," Blaise asked.

"Granger, what the hell is the…" her own voice with his sarcastic drawl questioned.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank fuck he was lazy and came home early today.

Blaise looked from her to Draco and back again, his eyes nearly tripling in size, "What…"

"Why did you bring him here?" Draco nearly screeched.

"Do you think I would have if I had some other option? He asked me a question I couldn't answer. You know, your 'secret' threesome?" Hermione huffed.

Draco scoffed and turned to Blaise. "That's kind of a stupid question to check my identity. I mean, half of Slytherin knew we fucked Daphne Greengrass until she couldn't walk straight."

"Wh…Wh…What the actual fuck?" Blaise sputtered, backing away from both of them.

Hermione decided the overlook how disgusted she was with Draco for various reasons and looked to him for help. He shrugged and she rolled her eyes in return.

"Blaise, Malfoy and I seem to have switched bodies. It happened three nights ago and we have no idea how to change back," she said. _There. Like ripping off a Band-Aid._

They both watched as Blaise digested the information. It was an anxious several moments before his wide open mouth closed and twisted up into a smile. Then the laughter started. Blaise was bent over laughing hysterically and Hermione and Draco sighed in frustration.

"This is actually completely inconvenient, you know," Draco said.

"Oh, I bet!" Blaise said. "For the record, Granger is doing a pitiful job of being you. Everyone at the company is planning a mutiny, I think."

"Somehow, I'm not at all surprised," Draco replied with an annoyed pout. "Just make sure she doesn't wreck the business and we will be back to ourselves soon enough. I hope."

"I'm right here, asshole," Hermione huffed. "Now you know how my day went. Why are you home so early."

"We'll talk about it later. I need a drink."

Hermione was about to demand he come back and tell her everything, but Blaise turned and said, "Give him an hour or so to unwind. Nothing will be different in an hour."

Hermione begged to differ, but she didn't want to fight. She wanted to take a bath and finish her (Draco's) work.

* * *

"Damn. Granger is hot when you clean her up," Blaise said, pulling down the edge of Draco's blouse.

"You have no idea," Draco said with a smirk before batting his best friend's hands away. "And as much as you might want to see it, I'm not stripping for you. Too weird. Just believe me when I tell you that her body is hot enough that I'd probably marry her if I could learn how to keep her annoying trap shut."

"Wow!" Blaise said, impressed. "That's high praise. So, any lesbian experiences you can cross off your bucket list?"

Draco shook his head. "I'm pretty sure Granger would have me killed."

"She doesn't have to know…"

"She's Hermione Granger. I'm pretty sure if she goes out looking for a lesbian hook up, the world will know in an hour's time," Draco pointed out. "Not that it wouldn't be amazing, mind."

"I take it you've taken the body for a test drive?" Blaise said.

"Of course," Draco said. "I swear to Merlin, if I ever hear another broad complain about not wanting to have sex again, I'm putting her in St. Mungo's. If you could come this hard multiple times and don't do it every chance you get, you are clearly a psychopath."

"Fuck. You know, I think I need to go. I'm getting hard because you look like Granger, and you talk like Granger, but you are saying things that would probably make her hair straighten," Blaise said, shivering with desire and disgust at the same time. "In all honestly, this is fucking weird. My best friend is now in the body of Hermione Granger."

"Try being me, Blaise," Draco said, giving him a pointed look. "I get myself horny. Marinate on that for a moment, will you?"

"Anyway, you should consider using that body for all it's worth while you have it. As for discretion…It's not like there aren't plenty of hot Muggle lesbians that you could do naughty things to," Blaise said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Actually, Blaise, it's not a bad idea. I mean, it would be a crime against my fellow men not to experience whatever I can for the short amount of time that this body is mine, right?" Draco said, already thinking of an exit strategy to get out of the house and find a hot lesbian to fuck within and inch of her life.

"Of course!" Blaise agreed. "No one could blame you."

Suddenly a thought struck Draco and he shivered at the idea. "You don't think Granger would do something like that? Use my body to hook up with another bloke?"

"Granger?" Blaise said. "Are you kidding me? I think you're safe."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Draco said, hoping Hermione was the uptight little prude he thought she was.

They were interrupted by a hard knock on the door. "It's been over an hour. I'm coming in."

"Bossy little bint, isn't she?" Blaise muttered.

"You have no fucking idea," Draco said, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to mention that he'd kind of grown used to her and found her bossiness just a bit cute. If he verbally admitted that, Blaise would probably never stop laughing at him. Besides, this was just a part of this infernal curse. Once she was back out of his life where she belonged, the only time he'd think of Hermione Granger was when he jerked off in the shower.


	5. AN

**A/N: April, 30, 2014**

Hey guys, I PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE I'm working on this story. I've had much less time than I thought I would adding a new baby to the family, plus my oldest has recently decided that he hates sleep...oh, and he spilled his juice all over my brand new, lovely MacBook Air...so, I've been without my own computer for a week now. All excuses, and none make you happier with me, I'm sure. But I swear, this story is not being abandoned and I have SOOOOOO many ideas I can't wait to put to computer. But until I can get a few hours together alone, with no distractions, It's going to be slow getting there. Thank you so much for sticking with me and please know that I will NEVER abandon a story. Ever!

You guys rock, I'm sorry I suck! :P

**Krystle **


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